Today, January 25th, is Burns Day, the anniversary of the birth in 1759 of the Scottish national poet, Robert Burns. It is traditionally marked in his native country by enthusiastic celebrations and repeated renderings of Auld Lang Syne.
Rabbie's life was short but full. As one biographer engagingly has put it: "His attractive appearance and gregarious temperament led him to a life of dissipation and amorous complexity."
Insofar as Burns thought of meteorology at all, it was in the context of such exploits that he did so. For example:
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west . . . he tells us on one occasion, and then goes on to explain the reason why:
For there a bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best.
Burns is more esoteric, however, but also accurate, when he talks about aurora borealis.
The aurora is a familiar sight in Scotland, where it is sometimes known as "Lord Derwentwater's lights".
It seems that James Radcliffe, third Earl of Derwentwater, played such a prominent part in the 1715 Rebellion that he was sentenced to death for treason, and beheaded on Tower Hill in London early the following year.
The northern lights were exceptionally bright, it seems, on the night before Lord Derwent water died, and the phenomenon, in Scottish eyes, became associated with his fate.
Lord Derwentwater's lights have their origin in the constant stream of electrically charged particles speeding Earthwards from the sun. As they approach Earth, the particles come under the influence of the planet's magnetic field and are deflected polewards to provide the familiar spectacle of restlessly moving coloured streamers in the northern latitudes.
There is a mysterious aspect, however, to the aurora which has puzzled scientists for centuries. There is a persistent tradition that it is sometimes accompanied by a hissing sound. Various theories have been put forward to explain the auroral sound, if it exists at all.
Perhaps, some say, the noise is an illusion, prompted by the visible motion of the rays, or the sound may be related to the freezing of the breath, or be the sound of crunching snow. Or maybe it is electrical in origin, an effect resembling the hissing of St Elmo's fire? Despite many plausible reports of the auroral hiss, no one has yet offered a satisfactory explanation.
Obviously Burns heard stories of this strange phenomenon, even if he had not heard the noise himself. He refers to it thus in Libertie - a Vision:
The cauld blue north was streaming forth,
Her lights wi' hissing eerie din.